


Opacity

by LiaLox



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Bottling Up Feelings, Gen, Growing up without parents, Hurt/Comfort, Takes place at the end of Prompto's DLC, sensitive topics, touch starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 15:52:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13251525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiaLox/pseuds/LiaLox
Summary: Prompto had told them all about his origins, but he waits until he's alone with Noctis to tell him about his father by birth.This is the aftermath.





	Opacity

“Hey. I’m—sorry.” 

The words come out of Noctis’ mouth broken and unbidden. He’s already apologized before, but just once didn’t seem enough. Not for the amount of hurt that Prompto had been through.

Sitting here on the same bunk bed, awkwardly facing away from each other left him at a loss for words. Especially since Prompto had spilled everything he’d been holding inside the moment they found a safe place to rest.

The truth about his past, down to the last detail.

Verstael Bisithia.

Noctis would never have guessed it, not by a long shot, that his starry-eyed best friend would have anything to do with _Niflheim_.

“And as you can see,” Prompto had said with a false lilt to his voice, in a distant past. He slammed the door to his room shut, causing the hooks behind the door rattle with their contents. “I’m adopted.”

Three years of hanging out with him, and it’s the first time Noctis had caught even a glimpse of his parents. His father had a round face, and was big in the same sense that Gladio was. His mother had beautiful ebony skin, dark curls tied into a neat ponytail. They both had black hair, and they both looked _nothing_ like Prompto. 

“Hm,” Noctis replied with genuine nonchalance. It really didn’t matter to him whether or not Prompto was adopted. “Ever wonder about your birth parents?”

Prompto paused, turning around slowly after setting down his backpack on his bed. The look on his face was something Noctis had never seen him wear. But his lips were pressed, and when they parted, Noctis already knew the answer before he spoke them.

“All the time.”

Noctis takes a deep breath, letting the air of the Keep chill the confines of his lungs.

“I’m really sorry,” he apologizes again. Sorry that Prompto had to find out this way. Sorry that he’s been dreaming of this moment, since long ago, only to have it turned into a nightmare. 

“What for? You know, this actually works out better for me!” Prompto exclaims, brightly. Noctis looks back at him, and Prompto's got a half-grin plastered to his face. “If I never got out of this place, I would’ve just been another dumb robot, getting its _circuits fried_ by the Prince of Lucis.” 

“Prompto, it’s okay to be upset.”

“Why would I be upset?” Prompto asks, quickly. “At least I finally met him. I got closure. I’m just sorry I wasted all this time building him up into this perfect father image, y’know? Spending all those— _damn nights_ ,” He grabs a pillow and throws in across the room. “Trying to picture an adult that would have the same eyes as me. If he’d be into the same stuff I am.”

Prompto’s breathing is uneven now, and he’s gripping onto the sheets of the bed, damn near tearing holes into it. 

“I—“ Noctis begins. “If there’s anything I can—“

“No, Noct, you don’t have to do anything,” Prompto faces him, with a twisted sort of gratitude. “It’s not like--I’m five years old anymore.” He throws his hands in a helpless gesture. “It’s not like I’m gonna be sitting up every night, wondering why _my_ parents don’t play with me like the other parents play with their kids. Why their parents _actually look_ like them, you know? But who needs them!" 

He smiles as he gets up, and begins to pace around the room.

“None of them were there when I graduated from high school, or when I learned how to shoot a gun, but I learned didn’t I?” Prompto continues. “I ace’d all of my science classes, and I, I actually became a good shot, didn’t I?” 

“Yeah,” Noctis agrees. His stomach twists. “Yeah, you—“

“I got through my first day without them,” Prompto cuts him off, something he’s never done before until today. His face is flushed when he points to his pinky, counting each detail with pride. “I learned how to drive—I learned how to cook, how to fight without them, right?”

Noctis nods and waits. He knows there’s years and years of this pent up, and for him to be freed of the pain, the dam keeping it in must break. Now it’s all flooding out.                     

“I had twenty _great_ birthdays without Niflheim’s _Minister-of-Research,_ ” Prompto practically cooed out the title. “And _thirteen_ where his replacements never even sent a damn card—“ He whips his head around, towards hall. “ _TO HELL WITH THEM!_ ”

Prompto’s voice cracked as he screamed the words out, sudden and forceful, like a shot fired from his pistol. The words echo in the Keep, ringing out into the corridors where the MTs were sure to hear him, but it didn’t matter right now. His fists are balled tight, as if the tension in his arms were the only restraints left, and it’s so, so hard to miss the tear that ran down his cheek. 

Noctis stands, heart pounding, scrambling his head to find words of consolation, but Prompto beats him to it.

“I didn’t need parents then,” Prompto says, trying his best to steady his breath. He folds in on himself, just a little, as though only now realizing he’s yelled at the top of his lungs. “And I don’t need them now.”

“Prompto,” Noctis sighs. He reaches out for his hand, but Prompto flinches away.

“You know what, Noct?” Prompto looks up at him. “I’m gonna get through all this without them. I’m gonna build my own place in Insomnia without them. I’m gonna publish all the photos I took without them. And I’m gonna marry the perfect girl and have, _aaall_ these kids without them.”

He’s spreading his hands, animating his story the way he always does when he gets excited. Like it’s all just a touch away.

“I’ll be a better parent than they ever have,” Prompto says, determinedly. His voice is rising with every word until he’s yelling all over again. “And I don’t need any of them for that. Because there isn’t a _damn_ thing they can teach me about how to love my kids!” 

Their eyes meet. Noctis’ eyes have welled up, and Prompto’s past the point of keeping his tears in check. He knows what it’s like to grow up missing a parent. Knows what it’s like to have one that’s unavailable. But Prompto’s had three, and they all failed him the same.

They stand there, for a long moment, sharing their understanding through silence. It’s when Prompto’s lips begin to quiver that Noctis knows that he’s spent. He’s emptied out all the anger and frustration he’d been keeping behind a smile and now all that’s left… all that’s left is this.

“Why didn’t they love me, Noct?”

Noctis sees Prompto’s face twist, just before he masks them with his palms, sniffling into his hands and sobbing. He can’t take it anymore—Noctis grabs him, pulls him close into his arms.

Prompto doesn’t resist it this time. Instead, his hands reach out to wrap around his back, clawing at his skin hungrily, like it’s the last hug he’ll ever receive in his life. He all but crumples when he presses his face into Noctis’ shoulder, dampening the cloth, and gasping into his skin. 

“Why,” Prompto chokes out. His voice is small and muffled by the shirt. “Why wasn’t I good enough for them?” He swallows. Hiccups as he tries to form words. Seconds tick by before he's able to speak again. “And then, I… then I killed him. Noct, what should I do? I killed my dad. And he wanted to, to...”

Noctis—Noctis doesn’t have the answer.

 “Remember what I told you?” Noctis asks him instead. “Back at the motel? You’re good enough for me. Good enough for the Prince of Lucis. Royal quality.” He rolls a hand on his back. “They don’t know what they’re missing out on.”

Prompto’s whole body shuddered with every quick, small gasp of breath.

“As for Bisithia,” Noctis scowls. “He deserved it. Dads don’t tell their children that they were created to _serve_. He wasn’t your father.” He grips him tighter. “He was just a scientist that went crazy, and if you didn’t kill him, I would’ve.”

Prompto doesn’t say anything. He stays, as still as he can, buried into Noctis’ arms, until he finally has enough control to bring himself to quiet. Even then, he doesn’t move.

Even then, Noctis doesn’t let go.

This is because of Niflheim—no, the war. If they weren’t fighting over… Noctis isn’t even sure what they had been fighting about anymore. It’s just been one cycle of hatred after another, raging even before his grandfather’s time, and projecting that hatred upon civilians. Maybe Prompto would've found more loving parents if there wasn't a stigma against Niflheim. Maybe he wouldn't have felt trapped by his origins, and maybe Lucis could've given him more.

It’s the damn line between Lucis and Niflheim that tore Prompto’s life apart, and Noctis wants to tear that line to shreds.

“Hey,” Noctis breaks the silence, fingers threading soothingly through blonde hair. “Once this is all over, I say we come together as one nation. I don’t mean just Lucis and Niflheim—I mean break down all the borders.” He clarifies: “We’re all people of Eos. It doesn’t matter where you’re from.”

Prompto let out a laugh. A real one, enough to shake his shoulders.

“You know,” Prompto peeks out and looks at him in what seems like forever. His eyes are red and puffy, and ever so grateful for the distraction. “You sounded like a real king for a second.”

Noctis scoffs, and rolls his eyes. “Better late than never.”

Noctis releases him from his embrace, but still holds him by the hands. He’s not ready to let go of him just yet.

“I’m gonna make this world a better place,” Noctis says. A place where people feel safe. Where people get the love and care Prompto should have received a long time ago. A place where people don’t have to hide where they came from, and a world free of daemons.

It’ll be a world Prompto deserves.

“You with me?” Noctis asks.

Prompto smiled, wiping away the last of his tears with his wrist. 

Just like all those years ago, Noctis knew the answer before he could speak them.

**Author's Note:**

> Based on Will Smith’s performance in an episode of the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.
> 
> (Yes, I am an awful procrastinator and I sincerely hope I can actually get to editing the new chapters of my works in progress) :c


End file.
